Jigsaw
by Nuttyginger
Summary: Angel fled LA after hearing of Buffys death, unable to take the truth. He returns 25 years later having achieved a Shanshu and sets about trying to find the ones he left behind. Rating: I.W.R.Y


Written 6 months before Buffy died but I lost the file so it won't follow any particular story line. There is SPOILERS for S1 of 'Angel' and S3,4,5,6 of 'Buffy' just to be sure. I.W.R.Y, it was Cordelia instead of Buffy...I know old one but I needed it to work it into the plot.  
  
Rating: R to NC-17 due to I.W.R.Y and a slight OK major description of their acts.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing but the kids and the plot under copyright. So if you want it, tuff!  
  
Distribution: Anywhere that wants it, just ask yeah?  
  
Summary: Angel fled LA after hearing of Buffys death, unable to take the truth. He returns 25 years later having achieved a Shanshu and sets about trying to find the ones he left behind.  
  
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Jigsaw  
  
By  
  
Nuttyginger (c)  
  
The lights of LA spread out below him as the plane descended into LAX airport. The city had altered a lot in the 25 years that he had been gone but it's night time beauty never ceased to take his breath away. The midnight arrival had not been planned but it was the only next available flight. Angel had made up his mind to go back to LA so many times but something else always came up or he'd scared out; not this time. Too much time had passed, too many memories had been missed for the man who had relied on these very things to get him though each day and night.  
  
Angel walked proudly and undisturbed through the airport terminal except for the odd stares from late night travellers. He was quickly ushered into a waiting Bentley, knowing full well that his luggage would be waiting for him at the Plaza Hotel. His 25 year absence from the city had not left him without money. Angel had went back to the one thing that had sustained him in his new years as Angel: Drawing. He sold his art through old contact he had built up. It still amazed him the people that remembered him or feared him. With the money from his art he purchased the small company that PR'ed his work. The company grew and now had offices all over the world. The profits had earned Angel O'Conner the Time 'Business Man Of The Year' Award but he always felt that part of his life was missing. He was now about to find those parts.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
The lifted the mock old fashioned telephone and dialled the LA number.  
  
"Bill Fernandos Investigations. How can I help you?"  
  
Angel smiled at the sound of the womans voice. It reminded him of Cordelia everytime she picked up the phone and tried to deliver their agency's motto. "Hello, this is Angel O'Conner. Can you put me through to Bill please." There was click then the middle aged mans voice filled the line. "Have you got anything for me Bill? I'm in LA now and would like to get started straight away."  
  
"There should be a pack sitting on your desk. I gave it to reception."  
  
Angel put the phone down and picked up the A4 sized envelope from the oak desk. He opened it to find several photographs and documents. "I've got it but what are they?"  
  
"The guy I tracked down was easy. Charles Gunn. He is still living in LA with a woman named Fred but I couldn't find anything about her past until she met Gunn in 2001. He works in the Work Bank downtown and is doing real well from what my source told me. She works in a Boutique designing for their collections. Gunn was the second to leave the agency in 2003. Gunn and Fred never got married and aren't involved in any way except as best friends. Their address is on the document attached to his photo.  
  
The next guy was a little more elusive but I found him. Wesley Wynham- Price. He is living in York, England. A retired Librarian with a wife and twin boys who are 18 years old - Edward and Charles - named after Charles Gunn I believe. He retired 2 years ago due to a medical complication with a gun wound he received 25 years ago. He married Lillian Verdo, aged 50. Tut, tut, he married a younger woman." Bill joked. "His boys are set to attend University in St. Andrews and Edinburgh, Scotland. One is doing Law while the other is doing Maths. Price kept the agency going on his own until 2005 when he had an accident that put him in hospital for 2 months. His address ect. is also on the document attached to his photo.  
  
I must say Angel, I knew you mixed with all sorts of...things but the next one took the biscuit. Faith, surname, unknown. Released from LA Penitentiary in 2005, aged 23, after serving 4 years for murder. It was thought that futher imprisonment wouldn't enhance her rehabilitation any futher. She got a job as a bodyguard to Miss Cordelia Chase. I'm sorry buddy, she died 15 years ago from complications over Hep B she caught while in prison after a knife attack.  
  
The last on was a pleasure to do, I researched it myself. Miss Cordelia Chase. Her real name. Left the agency in early 2002 and travelled all over America and Europe before coming back to LA and picking up an old business contact, a Mr John Montelli, a film director. He put he in as one of his leads in the biggest blockbuster he ever made. 'Whisperers' sent Miss Chase into the big time, both Montelli and Chase made a fortune from the film and she was in big demand. She was modelling and acting for 4 years until Montelli approached her again. There were rumours that Montelli and Chase had became good friends during 'Whisperers' so it was no surprise that she was given the lead to his next film. Four months after the film finished, Miss Chase gave birth to a healthy baby girl in Cedar Sinai. She called her Zayna and yes, she was Montellis but Chase wanted nothing to do with him in the bringing up of their daughter. Miss Chase continued to model and act all over the world, taking Zanya where ever she went. She retired around about 5 years ago and now lives in the Hampton's in New York State. The daughter though lives right here in LA and her mother visits her here regularly. I've put newspaper clippings and photos of both mother and daughter in there as well as all the addresses for her I could get my hands on."  
  
Angel left their photos in the envelope and placed it back on the bed. "Thanks Bill. It's been a pleasure working with you again. My cheque is in the post."  
  
"Angel quit with the formalities and I'll see ya soon. A drink in Macy's maybe."  
  
Angel chuckled and put down the phone again. He began to make a plan of action; Wesley was out of the plan as he lived to far away right now. He was last on the list. Gunn was easy enough to get to then Cordelia. Cordelia worried him. He had just packed a bag and left one night, no goodbyes, no notes, no nothing. He travelled to Sunnydale but couldn't stay more than a few days before the memories became too much for him. Giles, Willow and Xander seemed to be settling into their post-Buffy lives OK and Dawn was living with Willow and Tara in Buffys old house. They didn't need him, so he left. Florida was next on his travel log. Spike was there so they joined forces since Spike couldn't shake his Slayerette ways. They had never spoken about the Slayer they had both loved but it was always there between them. Spike had left him to, as he put it, 'go track down the phyco and the harlet.': Drucilla and Darla. He was heard to be somewhere near Texas. Spike didn't need him, so he left. The painting had started in Paris and some art critic had seen it and bought it. Angel realised that now he didn't have the agency and didn't want to be traced just yet through withdrawals, he was going to need money to get him through the next few months at least. He used the critics money to buy more materials and then a studio as he sold more paintings from then on. Prague, Milan, Florence, Vienna. It was there it happened, in the city of Mozart and dancing horses. The world still needed it's warrior so Angel painted by day when the sun was up and when the sun gave way to the moon he was the Dark Avenger once again. His Shanshu had ripped through his body unlike anything he had ever felt before. His Vampire senses had almost disappeared except for his hearing and his strength. He couldn't lurk anymore and the darkness held more surprise in it's wake than he could imagine. He was human and open what's more, he didn't like it. Patrolling had become harder but like Batman did, he found away and the demon community still feared the Scourge of Europe. It had taken him a while to get used to breathing again and having a reflection wasn't as good as he thought it would be, especially where women were concerned.  
  
A quick sidewards glance at the clock received a moan from Angel as he realised that he hadn't slept in nearly 24 hours. He slowly stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the smooth cotton sheets of the king sized double bed. Sleep soon claimed him after his head hit the pillow.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
The boutique where Fred now worked was on Rodeo Drive. *It reminded him of the one Cordelia had dragged him to, all those years ago, to approve a dress she was wearing to a ball a client had invited them to. He watched unable to speak as Cordelia twirled in the dark blue, velvet dress. She picked it's trail off the floor to show off a matching pair of satin shoes.* He walked obviously into the shop and stood awkwardly until one of the shop assistant, immediately recognising him, came over and asked him if she could help him.  
  
"Yes I'm looking for one of your employees called Fred. She's a designer."  
  
"Oh Fred likes to work from home on Tuesdays. Fred owns this shop and it's sister shop in New York."  
  
Angel thanked the assistant and walked back across the street to his waiting Bentley. He instructed the driver as to the next stop on the journey around LA. The Bentley moved up the tree-lined street opposite Griffith Park as the high class apartment buildings rolled on by. He stopped directly outside the address that Bill Fernando had given him for Fred and Gunn. He was impressed that the hard-boy Homie had made it at last and got himself where he always deserved to be. He knocked cautiously on the door and waited for an answer. He was just about to walk away when he heard the clicking of the latch and the door was pulled open. Fred hadn't changed much. Her hair was longer but now piled on top of her head in a loose bobble and she wore oversized blue dungarees, probably Gunns old ones.  
  
She took a double take and stared right at the ex-Vampire. "Angel? Angel is that you?"  
  
"Yeah it's me. I'm surprised you remember me."  
  
"Of course I remember you. You saved me from Pyrea, and brought me here. Do I still need to invite you in?"  
  
"No I'm free now. I can come and go as I please." To prove his point he slid straight passed her and into the open plan living room.  
  
"So you got you Shuooy thing then. Good for you. I was just through in the room working on some projects. God Angel, I can't believe your back."  
  
"I thought it was about time I came back and faced old demons...so to speak. I heard about your business, finally settled back into human life then."  
  
"Forget my business, we never stop hearing about yours. Gunn will drop something or other into the conversation about newspapers he's seen you in."  
  
"I've came looking for Gunn as well but I guess he will be at work by now huh?"  
  
"There's an easy way to solve that. We'll go see him at the bank. I could do with a break and I'm sure he will appreciate the jam donuts we'll bring him too. Their still his stable breakfast diet no matter how many cereals I buy for him."  
  
"I have the car waiting outside so we can just take that and maybe lunch?" Angel added hopefully. He had been in too much of a hurry to have breakfast that morning and now his stomach was beginning to growl: It was a feeling he welcomed.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
The World Banks entrance hall was a grand marble affair that reflected the business that came through the big wooden and gold doors and the optical fibres that, no doubt, swamped the building. He felt Fred grab him by the arm and drag him into a waiting lift. She pressed the button two from the top and the elevator jumped into life. Once the doors opened they made their way to the end of another marble hallway. The sign above the door pleased him as he read it. 'Charles Gunn' was printed in large black letters on a gold background. The office was huge as Gunn swivelled in his chair to see who had entered his domain.  
  
"Angel, ma man. Your back! About time. So what do you think?" Gunn spread his arms wide out and twirled in the middle of the office floor. "Kinda bigger than the one at the Hyperion huh?"  
  
Angel grabbed Gunns hand and shook it with as much genuine vigour as he could muster. "I'm so proud of you Gunn."  
  
"Yeah well old man, you haven't done that badly yourself. I've heard about your PR company. I'm kinda guessing your human now huh, since your standing here in broad daylight and I don't see any flames on that Amarni suit of yours."  
  
"I got my Shanshu in the end. I still do the Warrior thing but I'm getting too old for it now. I can't believe all this. How about we catch up over lunch. You, me and Fred?"  
  
"You guys go. I think that I can only take so much male bonding before I hit the bottle too much." Fred piped up, still dressed in her dungarees. "Angel was it was nice to see you again, don't leave it so long next time."  
  
Fred pulled Angel into a warm embrace before letting her leave with strict instructions that his driver would take her home and not to get a cab. Angel was amazed at how much the shy physicist had come out of her shell. Gunn took them out to the restaurant in his new BMW sports car which, he proudly stated, was bought and paid for with his own money. The two approaching middle aged men sat in the pub talking 'till Gunn realised he had a very important client to meet and close a deal. The two men parted with the genuine bear hug and the traditional slaps on the back before the Bentley rounded the corner and picked Angel up.  
  
CHAPTER 2  
  
Angel stared absent-mindeadly out of the Bentleys window as he cruised down the busy LA streets towards the hotel. He didn't even know what had drawn his eyes to her but something made is brain click back into gear. A tall woman was walking down the street in the late afternoon sunshine, her brown hair bobbing lightly down her back. The memories of so many years before ran through his mind. The scene seemed so familiar to him but he had never witnessed it in daylight before. He yelled at the driver to stop and jumped out of the car before it came to a halt. He ran down the street after the girl, determined to find out why she looked so like someone he used to know; hell it could even be her.  
  
"Cordelia. Cordelia stop. Wait up Cordelia." He shouted after the figure. "CORDELIA CHASE!"  
  
The figure turned around to face who ever was shouting in middle of the busy metropolis. She wasn't Cordelia but she was an almost exact copy except for the glint in her eyes; it wasn't the same.  
  
"Who are you?" She asked. "You knew my name, well my surname anyway. Are you from the press? I told you people that my story is not for sale."  
  
Angel looked bewildered at the girl. "I'm not from the press. My name is Angel O'Conner, I'm sorry. You look exactly like someone I used to know a long time ago."  
  
"Yeah my mother." She watched his face turn to an intense confusion. "Cordelia Chase? That was what you were shouting? She's my mother. I, on the other hand, know who you are Mr O'Conner. I seen your picture in Time."  
  
"You must be Zanya then. I'm in town for a few weeks and I was wanting to find your mother. Would you be able to tell me if she's in LA?"  
  
"I'm afraid, my mother is in New York State. She left LA last week. How do I know your not some deranged fan wanting to find her?"  
  
"I'll prove it. I knew your mother when she cut her hair and dyed it blonde. She looked fantastic with it but I still preferred her long brown hair. She worked for Angel Investigations in early 2000 and that she was from Sunnydale. The only reason she came to LA was because her father lost their money to the IRS and acting was to become her big break. She used to suffer mind-splitting migraines and I was her boss back in 2001 before I fired them."  
  
"OK Mr O'Conner, I believe you. Nobody could know about the migraines, they're mind-splitting alright and I'm not allowed alcohol to dull the pain."  
  
"I don't understand what you mean."  
  
"You were talking about The Sights weren't you? My mother, the migraines were caused by The Sights from The Powers That Be?"  
  
"Yes but I..." Angel stuttered.  
  
"I inherited them from my mother when she retired as a Seer. 40 years old was too old I told her but she stuck by her warrior until he redeemed himself." Zanya babbled on. "Here." She handed him the address he already had for her cottage in the Hampton's. "Good Luck!" She shouted as she weaved between the traffic and off across the street.  
  
-x-x-x-x-  
  
The jet had been chartered to JFK and a car arranged to meet him there the next day. There was enough time before the flight to take in some old haunts he used years before. The first stop was the Hyperion Hotel, having now been vacant for nearly 21 years. It had withstood earthquakes and eruptions fairly well over the years, well at least the outside structure was still in tact. He pulled the boards from the doors with grunt and pushed the door open, allowing sunshine into a hotel that obviously hadn't seen any for years.  
  
A surprising slight greeted him on walking into the reception of the old hotel. The electrical lights were still working and On, the surfaces were free of dust. The sheets that he imagined that Wesley would have left were missing and the furniture looked in use. Something wasn't right about this. He walked into the near-by gallery and heard the humming of a refrigerator in the corner. Dishes were piled high with cobwebs hanging from them. The cups were fresh though with a small coffee maker in the corner. Things weren't adding up here.  
  
"Hello?" Angel called out cautiously. "Is anyone there?"  
  
He waited for an answer but only heard a rustling sound coming from the first floor. He waited a moment two longer until as the noise came closer. There was a dull thud then a familiar voice echoed around the hotel.  
  
"Bloody hell. Stupid, fucking, door."  
  
"Who's there?" Angel shouted knowing full well who it was.  
  
"Who the fuck is there?" The mystery intruder made himself visible at the top of the main stair case. "Oh fucking hell. What do you want?"  
  
Angel sighed and lowered his stance. "Always nice to see you too, William." Angel smirked.  
  
"Piss off, and it's Spike. What are you bloody doing here?"  
  
Angel scoffed. "This is my hotel, incase you have forgotten. I came back to have a look around, see how the old place was doing. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Texas"  
  
Spike walked down the stair case towards Angel, rubbing his head in pain. "Well I had to get out of Sunnyhell. When Betty died, I had no one to protect me and the demons all got on top of me. The chip made me unpopular with the demons in Sunnyhell." He looked off with a wistful look in his eyes. "Anyway, LA make a better hunting ground and all the Brothels down at the docks give me hours of endless fun." He hesitantly grinned slyly.  
  
"Spike, there's no use lying to me, I still know." Angel tapped the side of his head. "I know what kind of relationship you and Buffy had before she...died. Willow."  
  
"Bloody red-head."  
  
"How did you get in here? I turned human well over 10 years ago. I would have had to invited you in."  
  
Spike smiled again. "I looked it up when I got here. You put the deeds of the hotel under Faiths name for some pathetic reason. I was gunning 'round the world looking for the terrible two and I heard on the news that Faith had died so I came back here 15 years ago and decided to stay."  
  
The two men now sat on the love seat. "So what happened to Darla and Drucillia?" Angel asked, almost afraid of the answer.  
  
"I found them in Venice, on a little killing/shopping spree. They thought that I had come back to them to reunited our twisted little family. Instead I dust Drucillia when we were together one night in the sack, she was sh..." Angel put his hand up to let Spike know he got the picture. "Well Darla was harder. She fled to China then onto Japan, before the old ways scared her out. From there she went to a Russian Winter. I found her in the Red Square on the hunt. We fought, she died. End of story and two of the most troublesome women in my life. Prostitutes, their so much easier. Shag 'em and leave 'em money. Job done."  
  
"Great!" Angel drawled. "Listen I have a plane to catch to JFK so I better go now. LA at night ain't a pretty picture. Take care Spike." Angel held out his hand.  
  
"Bloody hell Peaches. You're still a poof." Spike still took his hand and shook it heartily.  
  
As Angel walked out of the hotel, dusk was settling across his old city, he long ago left. He turned to look back at the old hotel, standing in all it's glory under the setting sun. He could still here Gunns cheers as he won yet another game of Cluedo and Cordelia laughing as Wesley huffed and stormed out of room to the library to sulk. Angel smiled at Cordelias laughter. Her smile could brighten even his dull rooms, she could make him smile when nobody had never got close to him. His face fell at the loneliness he had had over the last 25 years. There had been girlfriends but he had never slept with any of them. He didn't want to dent her memory. Going to find Cordelia was really the best thing to do. He had finally convinced himself. He had to tell her.  
  
CHAPTER 3  
  
Her mind flashed back. It didn't matter what she knew for he would never remember, it would never matter to him. The night they had spent together had been their last and, to Cordelia, the most special night of her life so far. The feelings that were there, they were real for her. For just one day and night, he was hers and she gave herself completely to him. All her trust, all her walls crumbled to the ground for it was Him. She trusted Angel completely, like she had never trusted any man before. Xander had hurt her over his betrayal with Willow, Christopher had meant nothing to her, not when he had left her with his little 'gift!'.  
  
*His arm circling her neck, pulling her closer to him, feeling his warm body next to hers. His hands, unfamiliarly warm, as his fingers circled around the jugular on her neck then running his hands through her long hair and down the small of her back.*  
  
Cordelia shivered in the breeze, the memory was so real. She had looked at him in uncertainty. Was it really her he wanted to be with? Was he wishing that he had gone to Sunnydale, but Buffy was too busy with her new boy-toy and Cordelia was simply a substitute? Cordelia would never know because she never asked. Never once stopped to ask if this is what he really wanted, if it was her he really wanted!? Instead she let herself go with him. Cordelias mind drifted back to her spine-shuddering memory.  
  
*He looked down at her with his incredible eyes. 'They're amazing' she had whispered to him and he simply smiled and answered her: 'Your beautiful.' It was all she needed, in that instance she had made up her mind to give him her all. His mouth was warm on hers as he took the lead, sensing her uncertainty. Angel gestured to her that he wanted her through the soft feeling of his tongue on her lips, caressing them. In a whimper, Cordelia opened her mouth, their tongues dancing with each other like fireflies in the night. She felt Angel pull her completely to him, delving deeper into her. It was all Cordelia felt. She pushed his duster from his shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor. Cordelia took Angels hand in hers as she realised that this what she wanted, questions or not, would be answered tonight. She lead him out of the dark kitchen and into his lowly lit bedroom, where he had been brooding when she had walked in. It was as romantic as Cordelia wanted; enough shadows to hide her inexperience and enough light so she could gaze at his face. The bed was neatly made, as always, the duvet a crisp white expanse waiting to be disturbed. They lay on the bed, next to each other. Cordelia cupped his face in her hand and kissed him lightly on the lips, followed by tender kisses until neither could take anymore.  
  
He pulled the tank top over her head and cast it aside of the bed. Cordelia was marvelled at the skill Angel had of mastering the bra clasp, after all he had only one shot at it with Buffy and Darla and his maids were more into corsets from what she had heard. Her mind suddenly sprung back to this reality, he was having all the fun!  
  
His jumper came over his head, joining her tank top on the floor. Cordelias hands automatically flew for the zipper on his black pants, her need unable to wait anymore. She released him and stared into his eyes in wonder. Angel simply cocked his head to one side and gave that boyish smile that would normally have made Cordelias knees buckle. Instead she smiled shyly back. That was the stamp of approval they both needed. He looked at her and smiled slightly. 'Are you OK?'. Cordelia smiled and cupped his face again.  
  
Angels hands could find no place unwanted of touch. Her body ached for his touch, just to feel him alive on her body made Cordelias spirits sour. The feeling of skin on skin made her feel like she could go no higher, that it was the ultimate feeling and seal of love. In those hours, that is what they made: Love.  
  
As Cordelia woke in the morning, she was scared that when he woke too, she would see regret in his eyes. He would realise the mistake he had made and simply walk away from her, straight into anothers, Buffy, arms. Instead she found him awake and watching her sleep. Cordelia focused in on his eyes, searching for the regret. She saw no sigh of regret or conquest in his eyes, only happiness and no longer of the dangerous, cursed type.*  
  
She opened her eyes again to the picture in front of her. Angel stood, ever the stolic man, on the front cover of Time in his usual dark assembly. There were hints of grey and a crisp white shirt underneath his navy suit the obvious work of the woman that everyone guessed would be in his life. The memory was tucked away again. It didn't matter to anyone but her since no one else would remember it except her, having got to the Oracles moments before Angel and begged them so only she would have the memories.  
  
The French windows to the beach were open so that she could also see the road from her veranda. She watched a dark, expensive car snake along the driveway that lead to the only two houses at this end of the islet. She knew the Darcy's would still be in New York City at this time of the week and year so it could only mean it was for her. Cordelia wasn't expecting any visitors and the only ones that knew about her Hampton home were Zanya and John. It wouldn't be Zanya since she had just left her in LA and John had died ten years before from a heart attack. She locked the doors from the inside, an old habit from the AI days, and made her way to the front of the house. The car pulled to a stop outside her door as she stood watching as the chauffeur open the back door closest to her. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for the person that stepped out of that car or the reaction her body took. Angel stepped onto the sanded driveway and watched as Cordelia stood, a little frailer, with her arms hugging herself against the sea breeze, her long curls once again blowing free.  
  
Cordelia felt a hand clutch around her heart and give a slight squeeze, enough to make her close her eyes and remember again, a shiver snaking down her spine. This is what it felt like that night 26 years ago when they made love and woke up in each others arms. This time she needed to know why he was here. She needed to know why he came back to her.  
  
Angel stood still for a few minutes, drinking in a sight long denied. She hadn't changed at all, grown more beautiful in her age. He understood her silence and took three steps forward until he was a foot away from her face. The wind ceased and the gulls were quiet as if allowing them this one moment to get it right. Angel did. In a low voice as he looked straight into her eyes her whispered.  
  
"I remember everything."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
If Your Lost, You Can Look  
  
And You Will Find Me  
  
Time After Time  
  
If You Fall, I Will Catch You  
  
I Will Be Waiting  
  
Time After Time  
  
Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper 


End file.
